The exercise:
Write about: the forbidden island.
Showing posts with label Island Prompt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Island Prompt. Show all posts
Sunday January 30th, 2011
The exercise:
Today Kat and I are flying from Toronto to Montego Bay, Jamaica. So I thought it would be fitting for today's prompt to be: the island.
Note: I'm away on my honeymoon so this is a scheduled post.
Mine:
On the first day he walked from the south coast to the north coast, through thick jungle that was brimming with the scent of exotic flowers. It took him two hours, and mosquitoes were his constant companions.
On the second day he went east to west. Even with a large hill to drag himself over it only took an hour. The mosquitoes were still glad to see him.
On the third day he traveled around the circumference of the island and the sand flies welcomed him with open jaws. Walking barefoot in soft white sand, devoid of any shelter from the sun's silent gaze, he became disoriented.
It wasn't until just before sunset when he thought he recognized his starting point, though by then every stretch of beach looked the same to him. He lay down in the sand and fell into a sleep filled with hallucinogenic visions and angry voices.
On the fourth day men in rescue boats found him and brought him back to their ship.
On the fifth day, still in the grips of the island's madness, he slaughtered them all.
Thursday September 25th, 2008
The exercise:
I was watching Jeopardy tonight and decided to use whatever the Final Jeopardy category was as the starter. Thus: island chains.
Mine:
Old man Enki sat motionless in his rocking chair, feet planted firmly on the rotting wooden beams of his front porch. He watched the young men stroll past his home without a glance in his direction, too caught up in themselves to notice a relic like him.
Pushing down with his toes, Enki brought the rocking chair back into action. The miniature islands on the chain around his neck clinked softly against each other, as they always did; slowly, surely rubbing the paint off of each other.
There was Mykonos, where he had met his first wife when he was too young to know better; Jersey, the island that took his right arm in the boating accident; and Vanuatu, his only son's burial ground.
Memories, so many memories, clinked rhythmically together, as Enki rocked back and forth, back and forth, until he saw the sun fall below the horizon for the final time. He closed his eyes, rested his chin softly on his chest and drifted away, the waves of time carrying him home.
I was watching Jeopardy tonight and decided to use whatever the Final Jeopardy category was as the starter. Thus: island chains.
Mine:
Old man Enki sat motionless in his rocking chair, feet planted firmly on the rotting wooden beams of his front porch. He watched the young men stroll past his home without a glance in his direction, too caught up in themselves to notice a relic like him.
Pushing down with his toes, Enki brought the rocking chair back into action. The miniature islands on the chain around his neck clinked softly against each other, as they always did; slowly, surely rubbing the paint off of each other.
There was Mykonos, where he had met his first wife when he was too young to know better; Jersey, the island that took his right arm in the boating accident; and Vanuatu, his only son's burial ground.
Memories, so many memories, clinked rhythmically together, as Enki rocked back and forth, back and forth, until he saw the sun fall below the horizon for the final time. He closed his eyes, rested his chin softly on his chest and drifted away, the waves of time carrying him home.
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